The sun observed all and little.

A single golden eye in the sky.

Hazy and at a distance.

•••

"It's just the idea the world has of you, how is it that complicated?" Hong Chunji asked, cheek resting in his palm as he watched Qing Xiashu reading through a book.

"I don't know, Chunji, I think it's more abstract than that." The head disciple hummed, watching Yin Zhi busy herself over the dough she'd been dutifully working at. "Do you want help, Yin-yi?"

"No no, you've helped plenty today." The woman said, waving a hand over her shoulder. Yin Hua had taken some of the products the town produced to another neighboring one to trade for other supplies, cloth and so on. Everyone else in the household had had a very regular day of working the fields and caring for various animals.

"Do you believe in fate, A-yi?" Hong Chunji questioned, shifting his head so his chin was resting on his hand instead of his cheek.

"Fate is naught but the path of least resistance, my boys." Yin Zhi hummed, patting her hands clean of the rice flour on her apron. "Ming-er, would you mind fetching me some water?"

"Mn." Hong Chunji stood and wandered from the building, leaving Qing Xiashu and Yin Zhi alone in the kitchen.

"Yin-yi, did you ever meet Xue Shixiong when he was small?"

"Before his mother was killed? Yes, quite a few times she did bring him to visit."

"What was he like?"

"So small. He was delicate, a bit like he was as a teenager, he looked much like his mother back then, but I haven't seen him in many years. A-Hua hadn't been born yet back then. I'm sure if she had, she would have overwhelmed him completely."

"Actually, I think he would have loved her... He always seems to be fond of big talkative characters."

"Oh he does. He's never met her face to face, but he always sends her things he thinks she'll like and writes to us both. He used to send Ming-er things as well until he ran away. That was the last time he visited... I always thought I would never see him again after he left Ming-er with me that night, all frazzled and broken. But when I told him Ming-er had run away and he turned up in an afternoon in a panic. Found him in less than a day just up the river. But said that he likely didn't want to come back. Must have found a way to give him that sword. He was very set on making sure Ming-er got it."

"You mean Jiao Jin?" Qing Xiashu blinked, setting his book aside.

"The very same. The story he gave me was something about Ming-er's brother having it commissioned against their father's wishes. I'm not sure of the logistics, but zhizi must have gotten a hold of it and worked a spirit into it."

"I see..." No wonder the blade had so peacefully allowed new ownership. Being forged specifically for Hong Chunji made perfect sense, the blade was suited to him perfectly, even when it came to the orange fire opals. Much like Hong Chunji, it was a sword of the South dressed in orange and yellow.

"What do you see?" Hong Chunji asked as he set a pail of water on the counter before his foster mother.

"Nothing, not important." Qing Xiashu said with a dramatic wave of his hand, picking his book back up. The book was one of Yin Hua's. Something a little foolishly sweet and overly romantic with a perfect ending. All in all, not something he was typically attracted to as a reader, but inevitably it held his attention anyway.

"Well, I've got unfortunate news." The prince mentioned as he sat back down, setting a finger on the top of Qing Xiashu's book. Not to obscure his ability to read, but alerting him to the need to listen.

"What happened?"

"We should leave for the East in the morning, I saw disciples crossing the river, and this is about when we expected them to make it here."

Qing Xiashu frowned, nodding lightly. "You're right..." They'd spent quite some time in the Yin residence now.

They'd even collected a number of belongings between the two of them. Things they'd have to leave there, they'd even have to leave the horses, and Hong Chunji had just gotten close to that dappled horse! Some things could be hidden in the kongjian pouch Qing Xiashu had made over a month ago, like the swords, but not everything was that portable.

"Well, tonight we'll have dinner, and tomorrow you can leave." Yin Zhi stated calmly, probably already plotting what she would prepare for them as a going away dinner.

Hong Chunji fiddled with the yellow tassels in Qing Xiashu's hair. The prince was way too fond of pulling them out at night, just to free the inky disaster of Qing Xaishu's hair and tangle his fingers into it. An avenue to control him while the smaller man was inevitably perched atop him to taunt him.

"Stop daydreaming at the table." Yin Zhi ordered, apparently already foreseeing what was running through the boys' heads.

"Sorry, Yin-yi." Qing Xiashu chuckled, lightly slapping Hong Chunji's hands away from his hair.

How had forcefully checking wounds turned into drawing new ones into his skin anyway?

Just below his collar line he was covered in little marks that were only replaced the moment they tried to fade...

A wooden spoon knocked him atop the head.

"Sorry!" The head disciple quickly looked down into his book, trying to read rather than wander around in his head.

A dangerous feat.

Hong Chunji laughed at him quietly.

Qing Xiashu was going to miss that effortless happiness. The prince had dodged mentioning Xue Feiyi as dramatically as a person could. It had come up a few times in passing, usually when the Southern Citadel was mentioned, or the idea of a war.

The subject was often quickly shifted to Hei Xianying and how she must be growing. Qing Xiashu used his insatiable need to brag about the little girl to avoid many many uncomfortable topics.

But inevitably the subject would forcefully show itself as their time together finally grew towards an end...

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

They would need to decide where they stood on either side of this.

Soon he would go back to being in between the Northern King's and Southern Prince's manufactured rivalry.

He wondered if he would be made a bargaining chip eventually...

He doubted that it would work on Hong Chunji. On Xue Feiyi though that would certainly be effective.

The only issue was that the problem wasn't Xue Feiyi.

Qing Xiashu was sure that if Hong Chunji backed off, Xue Feiyi would never pursue him, not until he did damage.

With a long suffering sigh, the head disciple closed his book and set his head on the table for the billionth time. His manners were suffering in this relaxed climate but he couldn't say he particularly cared all that much.

He had a week or so of travel time to brush up on his behavior before they reached the East and were all sent back to their varied homes.

They'd talk.

"Would you two run produce to Lu Lan again? Ask him for some chicken breast." Yin Zhi directed, shooing the boys away.

The walk across town to their neighbor, Lu Lan, was not long. Their little stroll was actually rather peaceful. The winter was encroaching on them slowly but the sun still shone warmly above them, even though there was a faint frost glittering in the grass.

"Apparently until a few decades ago they never had a harsh winter here, no snow, no frost, but now they do." Hong Chunji mentioned as they walked.

"Eh?" Qing Xiashu hummed as he picked at the loose threads finally fraying in his sleeves.

"Supposedly Shuang Xianjun lived here and was protecting it, but no one knows who they were, or where they went."

"Strange... And I assume no one knows their name or anything?"

"Mn, they were supposedly once part of the Northern royal families a few eras ago, but who can say how long ago that was."

"The Northern monarchy has changed multiple times."

"It's hard to say which dynasty they could have been a part of. I mean... Cang, Leng, Han, Xue... Then there's always that weird deifying that happens whenever the first royal family comes up."

Qing Xiashu shot Hong Chunji a glance that was probably more scathing than it needed to be. "No one is proud of the founding family. They were hard slave drivers, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone in the North that doesn't hold some level of superstitious fear for that family."

"That took millenia to fix..." Hong Chunji chuckled.

"Xue Shixiong did do some objectively good services. Besides, the era the Cangs came from were full of a lot of stories that don't hold water. People with mysterious powers. Land that walked. More likely a tale that's relatively realistic is more recent. From the Hans probably."

"Still not very straight forward to figure out who they might be." Hong Chunji's smile widened a little

"Mm." Qing Xiashu shrugged. "Can't be too hard to figure out who left the town when the frosts started. Tian Yang isn't large."

"Mn, not really, apparently a lot of people left around that time, like ten or so people, and a few died. That sort of thing."

"Frankly, I doubt Shuang Xianjun would stop protecting Tian Yang unless he either no longer could, or the people he cared about left."

"Mn, maybe it's both."

"Maybe..."

"Have you heard of the deity of mourning?"

"Where's all this deity talk coming from?" Qing Xiashu questioned.

Usually Hong Chunji skirts around the subject...

Probably to keep himself from accidentally inciting Qing Xiashu into disrespecting the gods with his blatant disregard for their power.

"You're being quiet. It worries me a little."

Oh, fine.

"No, I haven't heard of the deity of mourning."

"It's said they're a ghost that wears all white and is followed by the sound of silver bells. There are always tears in their eyes and they walk without motion. The legend appeared just after Ying Citadel froze."

Qing Xiashu's mind flickered with the sight of the ghost surrounded by red courting flowers.

He should cut this quickly before Hong Chunji got too wise...

"Urban legends often do appear in the face of tragedy."

Lu Lan's door was half open the way it always was when they arrived. Qing Xiashu personally didn't even bother going in to talk to the man, letting Hong Chunji handle the townspeople he'd grown up around.

The head disciple would be lying if he said he wasn't just a little uncomfortable with the people of Tian Yang.

For one reason or another, they all stared at him with heavy forms of judgment, even now that the stain on his face had completely faded.

"We can head back now." Hong Chunji said as he emerged from the neighbor's home, a sack likely filled with bird meat in hand.

"Do you have a map of the East?" Qing Xiashu murmured curiously.

The prince raised a brow. "One detailed enough to show towns? No way, but if we head back up to that trading town I can take us through the route I took last time."

"I figured not, that'll do fine, but we'll have to leave the horses..."

"Not like we can't visit them."

"You'd be fine with me coming back here?"

"Why not?"

Qing Xiashu blinked, stopping in his tracks. He only continued when the prince had turned to look at him. "Because I'll be the Northern sect leader if you get your way."

The prince frowned, turning to continue walking. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Tripping to catch up quickly enough, Qing Xiashu tried to argue. "We'll be at odds, Chunji. We won't be friends, you understand this right? We won't be able to be anything." It wasn't that Qing Xiashu didn't want their... thing to continue, but it would be forced into an end if Xue Feiyi was killed.

"I know..."

"And that's fine with you?"

"For now, it isn't important, let's just keep moving."

"And what if someone finds out you're the prince? Will you still pursue it? Even though it would cause a war? Even though a lot of people would end up dead?"

Hong Chunji sighed heavily, glancing up to the clouds that flitted around the sun, watching his breath curl in the air. "Qing Xiashu. I'm not going to let there be a war. Whatever happens. I won't let there be a war."

Qing Xiashu's features inevitably eased, relief washing over him until his shoulders loosened, if all else was lost, he had an avenue... just one... to save Xue Feiyi's life.

It would cost him nearly everything.

But it was an avenue available.

"So for now can we just..." The prince held out a hand to Qing Xiashu, beckoning him closer like a skittish animal.

With a quiet sigh, the head disciple smiled, taking that hand readily. "Yes, for now we can just be."

•••

Yin Hua arrived late that day, excitedly waving her arms when they spied her. The feathered wyrm crawled up her shoulder to take advantage of the wind that carried her right to them.

Qing Xiashu climbed his way out of the vegetable garden carefully, stepping over the little stone wall to greet her.

She barreled into him before he'd found his footing and he would have certainly gone right back over the edge off the wall if Hong Chunji hadn't been coming up behind him to supply an extra leg of support.

"Ah, why so excited? You see us every day." Qing Xiashu chuckled as Miantiao slithered across the arm that had caught him.

"Well sometimes I worry gege will pull his evil again and just be gone when I come back."

"I said goodbye to you, you just weren't feeling well so you don't remember... And you might have been asleep."

"That doesn't count! Do you see what I'm working with?" She asked Qing Xiashu with a grimace on her face.

"Well... We are probably leaving tomorrow..."

"See that's more like it! A timeline! See gege? Shu-gege has it figured out!"

Qing Xiashu took a soft breath and crossed his arms loosely.

They waited.

"Wait what!"

There it was...

She had burst into tears before they could answer.

"You can't go again!" She sobbed, grabbing ahold of her brother's sleeves before dragging Qing Xiashu right along with him into a crushing hug.

"I'm sorry meimei." Hong Chunji cooed softly, rubbing Yin Hua's back soothingly. "It'll be alright. I promise to write this time, even to you." He said, pulling at one of her cheeks.

"You better write every week." The girl sniffled, burrowing her face deeper into his shoulder.

Dinner continued on like this, with Yin Hua making Hong Chunji swear up and down that he would write, keep in contact, send her gifts, visit, and more. She even made him promise to visit for the new year.

Before long they'd retired to bed with a promise to continue negotiations over breakfast.

Though sleep they did not.

Qing Xiashu's head was too busy swimming with the remembrance that he would be walking back into responsibility rather than the relative freedom he'd been living in for some time now.

He had missed the structure at first.

The bedtime. The time to wake up.

While he was too much of a homebody to really enjoy a life on the move, Hong Chunji's fluid existence must be so much simpler.

No politics or responsibilities to anyone but yourself.

"Chunji..?" The head disciple finally called.

"What is it?"

"I'll miss you when it's all over..."

"Shall I write to you too then?"

"If you would...

"Then I will."

"Thank you, Chunji..."

"Of course." The prince hummed as he tucked the blankets around Qing Xiashu, holding him closer and laying a soft kiss on his forehead.

•●•